


Falling

by Anonymous



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt, Injury, M/M, Major Character Injury
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-17 20:45:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11859345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Secret Admirers story for Damnitfili. All the angst for you, bruh! Enjoy~





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [girlmarvel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/girlmarvel/gifts).



> Secret Admirers story for Damnitfili. All the angst for you, bruh! Enjoy~

“He had to do it. You know that, right?” 

“Yeah, I know.”

“He had no choice. He would have died.”

“I know.” 

“He was trying to find a way to come back to you. He’s probably trying to find his way back to you as we speak.”

“I know.”

“Kili. Why are you so calm about this?”

Because there is nothing left.

He can still see that horrible freefall, that filthy blade piercing Fili almost all the way through. It must have been the last seconds of his life, last sparks of consciousness. Kili remembers looking up and seeing those wide blue eyes. If the orc didn’t kill him, the stone at the bottom of the tower would.

Somehow, in that split second Fili opened a portal, fell through it, so the only thing to hit the ground was an empty shell of his body. He saved himself. For Kili. 

Kili can’t even blame him. Not his fault, he had to. Fuck. 

All in the Line of Durin have the Gift of opening the doors to other worlds; few actually cross. There is no telling where the portal might lead or how long one might spend in there; the time flows differently in different realms. Could be minutes, days, years, centuries. 

They say Frerin crossed, at Azanulbizar, and that was close to 150 years ago. Thorin never speaks about it.

The body is always left behind. In stasis. Doesn’t require food, nor drink nor anything else, just exists without ever turning to stone. 

This is his Fili now. Just - is.

For the first few weeks, months even, Kili tries to stay upbeat. For Fili’s sake. They have both survived the battle, they won. The dragon is dead, the mountain is theirs.

“Did you know that they had underground lakes? And gardens! You should see the gardens, Fili. They’re hugely overgrown but it’s like paradise, sun streaming down, I have no idea how.”

“Bard is re-building. They don’t think they will be going back to Laketown. They tell me the man you begged for help for me is dead. Killed in the dragon’s attack.”

“I miss you, Fee. You need to wake up soon.”

He doesn’t know what to do with the silence. It’s too quiet. He misses the smug smiles and swagger of his brother’s footsteps. But he comes back, always, with new tales and new hope, and curls up to sleep in the bed they have set up for him next to Fili’s. 

He tries to keep himself busy: helps Thorin, helps their people move in, disappears into the forge for hours and days. He brings his creations with him at first, to show Fili, so perhaps the smell of quenched metal might wake him. 

But there is nothing, no familiar banter or quiet praise. He stops after a while, though he continues his work; anything to keep himself occupied.

“How are ye, lad?”

“I’m okay.”

“Good, good.”

He learns to get by on less. It’s the only way. The colour of golden hair; his fingers patiently putting in the braids. A touch to warm skin. The sound of Fili’s heartbeat. 

Around him, the world moves on: he takes extra duties without complaint, keeps to himself what it feels like to come back every evening to their quiet rooms. They wouldn’t understand; only Fili would, but Fili isn’t here. 

[Hey, slowpoke! You keep with that frown, you’ll have birds dropping out of the sky in sheer terror.]

[Tell me. You can tell me what’s wrong now or I can wrestle it out of you. Your choice.]

[No, come here. Shhhh… I know.]

When their mother finally arrives Kili is too tired to rebel any more. There are silent tears running down his face as she folds him into her arms. But she too isn’t Fili. 

He makes himself endure, becomes an expert killer of time. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. He takes on more. Somewhere along the line they name him Heir and he tries not to think about what that means. He’s needed and he still has Fili’s presence to talk to. Work, eat, sleep, repeat. He tells his brother about his day and even the more and more trivial things. Even the things he’s told him before. He goes on. For Fili. He’d be worried if he knew of the things in Kili’s head.

Work, eat, sleep, repeat.

“Kili. Kili, are you sure you’re alright? You’ve grown quiet.”

“I’m good. Just – It’s nothing.”

He’s changing, he knows he is. But smiles and laughter are for Fili. Curiosity is for Fili. Inspiration comes from interaction. He hammers the metal like he always has, but no matter how beautiful a piece he’s produced, he can’t find any joy in it. There are words he hoards for Fili, things he doesn’t want to say just to his unresponsive body. 

“He should marry. One day he will be king, he will need an heir.”

“No. I won’t do this to him. Hasn’t he suffered enough? Or are you blind to see how he is? If it is his wish to never marry, then I won’t force him.” 

He learns to get by on less still. It’s the only way. He can’t remember what their last conversation was about – the one Fili started himself. He snaps at people, even snaps at Fili; doesn’t like himself much for it. He tries not to be like that, tries to contain it all. It only makes it worse inside him. But it’s the lesser evil: others shouldn’t suffer for how lonely Kili feels.

“Your light is fading, dwarf. Does our brother sleep still?”

“He does. And my light never was all that bright to begin with.”

But Kili is strong too, and he recognises that something has to be done, or he will lose this battle with himself. 

The logical thing to do would be to find another. Doesn’t have to be Fili, doesn’t have to be the same as what they have. Just a kind soul that will respond and be there with him. He tries several times, tries to find that understanding he used to share with his brother. They brush past his soul and they are kind enough, each of them with their own agenda and interests. But they too aren’t Fili. 

The other logical thing to do would be to move on, to find something else that might possess his soul. He looks at ruling, tries to organise things for others. He looks at crafts, leatherwork and fabrics. He trains and trains and trains. But his heart isn’t in it; his heart wants only one thing, one little grumpy response and the freedom they used to have. And the more others try to encourage new things on him, the more he hates them for trying to usurp Fili’s place. 

“They have always been too close. Too addicted to each other.”

“You saw them. You couldn’t have separated them yourself.”

At two years Fili’s body is once more declared whole. It takes longer to heal like that, when it goes on just because death isn’t an option. Tissues and muscles knit back together, but only out of habit, with the residual momentum of a body which was once alive.

“There. You’re as good as new. So feel free to pop back in any minute. I miss you, Fee. So much.”

He learns to get by on less. It’s the only way. He maintains their conversations for more than three years until one day he just runs out of things to say. Then – silence. It hurts so much worse but at least he can say he can feel something still. Somehow, irrationally, Kili thinks Fili can have the taste of his own medicine for a while, that he can suffer like Kili has suffered. 

Slowly, things become hazy and although he tries to continue going through the motions, the outside world loses focus. He makes himself come back every evening, tortures himself with the emptiness of it all, can’t stay away.

He’s having conversations with Fili in his head, has been for a while, can’t tell how long it’s been going on for. There is no point to voicing anything anymore when the effect is just the same, whether Fili’s body is present or not. It soothes him a little, this game where he tries to make things familiar again.

It’s the only thing left.

He’s done screaming and crying and hitting Fili’s chest with all his strength. He’s done maintaining appearances and fighting for himself. He’s done with it all.

He hates the room, full of darkness and silence. Hates the unanswered questions and those that are never asked. 

Nobody comes by any more, as if they’ve all forgotten the golden prince who used to laugh and fight and talk. In time they will forget Kili too. 

He can never leave now, he’s made his choice and he’s fought all those who would defy it. Instead he curls up in one dark corner, waiting, forever waiting, and just – is.


End file.
